


Don't worry, I know you'll take care of me. However... did you?

by narcissusetstellae



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, So much angst, Through the Years, parentdale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 11:22:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16953069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narcissusetstellae/pseuds/narcissusetstellae
Summary: "And I wanted it and I wanted it bad but there were so many red flags..."Just a take on what Hermione and Hiram were through the years; from their childhood leading up to the main events from where the pilot picked up.





	1. Comptine d'un autre été: l'après-midi

**Author's Note:**

> this fic took so much time and energy to write but it's finally here !! i hope you all enjoy reading it and i'm so sorry for all the angst and stuff, i just had so many emotions and headcanons that needed to be tossed out there ! 
> 
> each part is the name of a song, so you can listen to that while reading !!
> 
> enjoy, cielitos

_ Part 1 _

 

_ Comptine d'un autre été: l'après-midi _

  
  


When she was twelve, she met him at church. He was older by a few months only and yet, such a gentleman already. 

 

As their parents talked, he asked her dad if he could show her a nice tree at the park nearby ( it sounded weird, yes, but he would’ve done just about anything to get to know her better ). The older man hesitated for a moment but when his wife gave a little squeeze to his forearm and he looked down at his daughter's hopeful smile, he couldn't say no— so, he just nodded. And off the two kids went. 

 

She suggested a race. He pulled a grimace at that, for he was a big city boy, accustomed to formal parties and the bigger, greater life. She could only laugh and jump forward, touching his shoulder before exclaiming, ‘Tag, you're it!’. Even when wearing a girly dress, she was still the little tomboy that he’d often see playing around in the streets, barefoot as she shouted at her siblings. They were so different… How would that ever work?

 

Her touch was brief and playful but he frowned at that. He frowned at his heart skipping a beat— and that hadn't happened since the time he almost broke his abuela's expensive vase. Or even the time Victoria Martell brushed her hand against his in fourth grade — however, he quickly let that go, being brought back to the moment; to the fact that she was no longer in sight. His face fell. 

 

“Over here!”, he suddenly heard and turned around.

 

She was on one of the swings, just going back and forth. Her laughter, as the wind blew her curls completely out of place, filled the park and that warm Sunday afternoon. Suddenly, like magic, he forgot about the argument he’d had with his father that morning as he skipped towards her.

 

“Push me?” She asked, looking up at him once he was close enough; nose all scrunched up and eyes squinted due to the sun that now had its rays shining directly on her face. 

 

He moved to the side, so his body would form a shadow and the light wouldn’t bother her. He didn’t know  _ why  _ he’d done it but it was like… instinct. The instinct to just shield her from everything and anything that could bother her. He didn’t forget about her question though.

 

“Uh– what if you fall?” He asked, arching a brow. 

 

”Don’t worry, I know you'll take care of me.” She answered with such confidence and a bright smile that… What could he do? What was he supposed to do, say  _ no _ to  _ that _ ?

 

So, getting behind her, he gently placed his hands on her shoulders and gave her a push. The swing went forward and when it came back, he repeated the action.

 

Once. 

 

Twice.

 

Every time he did so, she’d giggle so loud that he couldn’t help but let his usual ( and always there ) frown to turn into a smile.

 

And when the swing came back for a fourth time, they were already seventeen. 


	2. Him & I

_ Part 2 _

 

_ Him & I _

 

They  _ finally _ had been going out. 

 

But she didn't know _why_ , on a _winter_ _morning of a Saturday_ he insisted on bringing her to the park swings when he _knew_ he was the last person she wanted to see that day. Forgetting the anniversary of...whatever had been going on between them for a while now was just a low, low blow and that was something she wasn't just about to forgive any time soon. 

 

However, she let him grab her hand and pull her towards the swings. He pushed her down — rather forcefully, if she were to be asked — and she had no choice but to sit down on an old — probably still wet from the previous night's rain — iron swing that was most likely to not support her teen body and the many curves it had gained over the Summer.

 

“I’ve got homework, what do you want?” She was quick and sharp at not letting him speak first and he could only roll his eyes.

 

“Will you let me speak?” She huffed. He chuckled. “I'll take that as a yes.”

 

Next thing she knew, he was crouched down before her. She looked up and away from him but could  _ so  _ feel his hands resting on her knees, running his thumbs in circles and that only made her clench her jaw and lift her head higher as a shiver ran down her spine. And he  _ knew  _ that, he knew what he was doing to her. And he couldn't help but smirk.

 

“I need your help with something. Homecoming isn't for a few days but I want to make sure my date will say yes.” He felt her knees tremble for a second but chose to keep going. “But there's a problem, I want to ask her something really important first but don’t know if she’ll say yes to being my date only to the dance or, you know, on a more permanent basis kind of thin-- ” 

 

Her knees went stiff.

 

“Wha– you called me here to say that you're bringing your little  _ puta _ to the dance? I knew she wasn't just your “lab partner”, I knew there was a reason for you forgetting yesterday! I just knew it. You're… I can't believe it, I just can–” 

 

( Yes. She could be rather  _ thick _ at times back in the day. But she was hurting, can you really blame her? )

 

His lips pressed against hers, cutting her off but she did nothing to pull back. But when  _ he  _ did, her hand collided with his cheek and he saw tears in her eyes. And as much as she always tried to hide those,  _ this time _ , she wasn't able to. 

He leaned forward, cupping her face in his palms, giving her time to protest. When no response came and she did nothing but stare at him, chest heaving, he spoke again.

 

“I don't want to bring anyone but  _ you  _ to the dance. I don't want anyone but  _ you  _ to say yes to being my girlfriend.” 

 

“This is a joke, right?” She scoffed, swatting his hands away from her. “Are your friends here? Is this a bet, to see if I'll give in once you work your charm on me once more? Make me forget that you were an asshole with just one simple kiss? Well, guess what, that isn't happening! And why are you so calm, by the way?! Aren't you going to fight back? Try to defend yourself? Don't you always have an answer ready?!” She pressed, eyes filling with tears again, before lunging herself forward and shoving him harshly by pressing her palms on his chest. Once. Twice. Until what she had was no longer his clear shape in sight but a blurred silhouette caused by the angry tears that rolled down her cheeks.  

 

He caught her, sliding his arms around her petite frame as he squeezed her and his eyes shut-- he couldn’t cry; he just  _ couldn’t _ . But when he spoke, his voice was sounded strangled. 

 

“I'm an asshole. I did forget about yesterday. And I know saying sorry isn’t quite enough. But if you'll have my explanation, I was out of town, picking up some flower arrangements for my abuela that she ordered. Also... I was picking this for you.” And reaching one hand down into his pocket, he pulled out a small, rectangular velvety box, bringing it to her face level and popping it open— inside, the most gorgeous white gold necklace with a single pearl as the pendant. “It was my abuela's when she was young and when I mentioned to her I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend, she wanted you to have this. The clasp was broken so I had it fixed.” 

 

She was completely astonished, mouth opening and closing but no words coming out. 

 

“You know her. She loves you and has always had this gut feeling about, you know, this--  _ us _ . I never believed such thing, especially not while we were apart and not talking but… now I do. Now I see what she sees and I can only hope you see it too. So, Hermione Gomez, would you give me the pleasure of being my girlfriend and also my date to the dance?” He mumbled against her hair, dipping his head a bit to press a gentle kiss to her temple and also to take a look at her face.

 

“I… you’re a  _ piece of shit _ , did you know that?” She half sobbed, swatting his chest as a pout formed on her lips, her chocolate brown optics alternating between the necklace and his face. “You didn’t have to be an asshole  _ or  _ give me a necklace  _ or  _ make me cry to ask this. You could’ve just…  _ asked _ !”

 

“Then I’m asking now. Will you be my girlfriend? I mean, officially, because you kind of already are.” He chuckled. And she did so too, stopping in between teary giggles to say ‘yes’.

 

That night was special. It just wasn’t more special than the Homecoming night, where they each ditched their friends to be together-- in more ways than one.

 

But that scenario quickly merged into another one. 


	3. Closer

_ Part 3 _

 

_ Closer _

  
  


A Friday afternoon, almost evening. 

 

Exam week in college had whacked her out and her hormones weren’t that much of a help either. Pushing the door to their apartment open, Hermione was rather surprised to find the place completely dark. Had Hiram not yet come home?  _ Great _ , just great. Just what she needed; yet  _ another  _ petty argument to go perfectly along with the ones they’d been having for the past few weeks.

 

With a groan, she closed the door and was already reaching for the light switch when she heard a muffled voice. Not just any voice;  _ his  _ voice, coming from the fire escape. Apparently, he was on the phone, which would’ve been perfectly acceptable… hadn’t she heard the following words,   _ “Oh, yeah, yeah. She hasn’t until now and I pretty much doubt she’ll suspect anything, anytime soon.” _ , followed by the laugh he only used when he was trying to be coy. And, even if he was out of sight, she could just /see/ him rubbing the back of his neck.

 

The conversation didn’t get any better as she tiptoed closer to try and listen to it.

 

“Tonight?” He asked, taking a quick glance at his watch. “Yeah, maybe. She isn’t home yet so let’s see how that goes. Yeah, yeah. I picked-- come on, you know me. I would have never let that slip.”

The more she heard, the more anger she felt, just bubbling up to the surface until, involuntarily ( or not ), she let her bag fall onto the dining table they had, it immediately knocking over a vase he had given to her on their fourth anniversary,along with her favorite flowers, lilies. 

 

The loud noise startled him.  _ “Shit. I think she’s home.” _ , he said in rushed whisper, before hanging up and slipping his phone back into his pocket, ready to climb out of the fire escape, already one leg out, when a shadow made its way to stand in front of him and judging by the heavy breathing, oh, she was  _ pissed _ .

 

“ _ Hermione! _ ” He exclaimed, fake surprise spread all over his features. “I didn’t know you were coming home earlier. I thought... you had an appointment today?” 

 

“Who was that on the phone?” She was direct, eyes glancing down at him like he was nothing; a perfectly manicured brow arched.

 

Oh, well.  _ Shit. _

 

“That… was... my mother. My mother, yes. She wanted to ask how the baby was doing--  _ you and _ the baby, of cour-- “

 

“Save it, Hiram. Your mother  _ doesn’t even like me _ , she would  _ never _ call to ask about me.” She was sharp. And cold. “You lost one chance already, only two to go to try and come up with a brilliant excuse as to why you repeated so many times that, apparently, “she won’t suspect anything”. Come on, I’ll wait.” 

 

Nothing, absolutely nothing went past her and that drove him crazy most of the time. He was pretty sure she could be all the way across town in Queens and still be able to know what he was doing; at times, she was worse than his own mother. 

 

“Why can’t you just  _ stop _ and not grill me, just for  _ once _ ?” He snapped, finally, running his fingers through his short hair. “So what if that wasn’t my mother? It’s not like I’m cheating on you! God forbid I ever did so because you’d have my head  _ before  _ the thought even crossed my mind. Jesus, Hermione!” 

 

It had never come to this point. He’d always respected her being like that, always suspicious and everything. Things in her life hadn’t exactly been stable and trustworthy her whole life so yes, he got her. But there were times in which she was just… a walking question mark; even though she didn’t voice it, he could hear her mind spiraling into an abyss of the most dark theories about just what the hell he was keeping from her. And that was just hell because he didn’t always know how to calm her. Especially not after she got pregnant and the hormones kicked in. 

 

But yeah… Maybe while voicing his frustration, he didn’t exactly do it in the right way or using the right words or even at the right time, because when he turned around, she was just staring at him; jaw clenched and a little bit forward, making her look like an angry, pouty child. And he knew he had screwed up. 

 

“Hermione, I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, baby. I just--” And with every step forward he took, she took one backwards...

 

And when he reached with one hand to touch her arm, she rolled her shoulder back so he wouldn’t.

 

“Don’t.” It was all he got. “Is that what you really think of me? Some nosy bitch who just grills you? Is that it? And what was that about the cheating part? Is that your way of saying you want to break up? Things got too hard for you after seeing exactly just where your “Oh, you’re on the pill right? I think we can skip the condom today, baby” finally led us?”

 

“What? No, what the fuck, Hermione--”

 

“You know, I always say that you can really be a pig when you want to be but I never thought I’d actually mean it.” She said with a scoff, picking up her bag. “Get out of my way.”

 

Jesus. Why was  _ proposing _ always hard with her?

 

“You know what?  _ No _ .” He answered, standing right where he was. “I get it that I’m a major asshole, yeah, throw that on my face. But what you just said? Wasn’t even  _ close _ to what I meant or what I was planning on saying to you today. I get that things haven’t been great lately, we’ve been fighting a lot, but that  _ doesn’t  _ mean I want to break up with you. Or want you out of my life. Just what kind of insane bastard would I be if I did that? I love you. I’m not about to break up with you.”

 

“You didn’t have to snap. You didn’t have to say those things if you didn’t mean them.” He could tell she was one sentence apart from just breaking down and he knew how much she hated it. “You didn’t have to--”

 

“I know. I know that. And sorry isn’t enough, I know. I’ve learned that the hard way. I didn’t mean any of those things. I know you’re going through a rough patch right now. We both are but you? Way more than me. And I want to make things easier on you but you have to give me room to help sometimes. You’re not on your own. Maybe I don’t do two shits like you like them done so… tell me how to do them.” He sighed, slowly tucking a loose curl behind her ear, as not to startle her. “I’d like to spend the rest of my life learning with and from you. Wouldn’t you like that?”

 

“Only if you promise to really pay attention to what I say…” She mumbled, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand before but still not looking up at him.

 

“Cross my heart and hope to die.” The young man chuckled, leaning closer to press a kiss to her head, then her temple, her cheek and finally, her lips, before pulling back to get her bag. “So, is like, June or July any good? My brother said he can try and postpone an event in the family’s vineyard if you want to do it there.”

 

“Do what there?” She asked, confused, as he turned around to go their bedroom, leaving her behind in the living room. “Have the baby? What is it, are we turning my pain into an actual event?”

 

“Oh, yeah, shit. That’s what I forgot to ask you.” He said as he made his way back into the room, his cocky, usual smirk back on his lips and oh, how she knew that it usually didn’t mean something she’d be completely on board with. 

 

“Hiram… What is it?” Hermione muttered, watching as he got closer and closer to her. “I swear to God, I’m not having the whole family over for when the baby is born. You and your brother have some twisted minds, I tell you.”

 

“Hey, hey. Would you relax? This isn’t about you. This is between me and my daughter, we have an agreement, okay?” He said while crouching down in front of her on one knee, pretending to lace his sneakers. “Okay, those laces were driving me nuts. Now that that’s out of the way, shut up because I have something to ask her.”

 

“Hiram, I don’t even think she can understand you. I’m six months along. I think all she can do is kick my bladder all day.” 

 

“Honestly, she’s pissed and I am too because you can’t shut up. Shut up for a second, let the professional handle things, alright?” He grinned up at her, as she scoffed at him in disbelief,  before placing both hands on her hips. “Veronica, I don’t know if you’re awake but… I think it’s time you know how amazing your mother is. Shit, she puts--” 

 

And then, there was a smack to the back of his head. “ _ Language! _ ”

 

“She has a strong hand but she’s awesome. What she puts up with, since we were kids, it’s simply out of this world. Of course, path has been rough, there are ups and downs, even though she says I have more  _ ups _ than downs and that I’m  _ horrible _ when the downs come, she’s always been there for me. And look, maybe I’m biased here, okay? But I’m pretty sure this is love. Either that or she’s been a pretty good actress through all these years.” 

 

_ Another _ smack.

 

“She’s being aggressive right now because I’m terrible with expressing myself so I’ll wrap this up and pop this question while she’s still in a good mood so… “ And he looked up at her, who was trying so hard not to grin, while pulling out a box from his back pocket. “Is there any chance that you’ll marry me?”

 

It was in her face the whole time but still, it caught her by surprise and she couldn’t do much more than just stare at him first, mouth agape, before her hand came to cover it and the tears just rolled down her cheeks. 

“Baby,  I think I fucked up. Your mother is just crying and won’t even talk to me. Well, -- “, he began as he got up with a grunt, “ -- I tried. Guess I’ll just have to keep this ring to myself then.”

 

“Shut up, asshole!” She managed to mutter it out between sobs and shove him. “Yes! Of course I’ll marry you! You’re an asshole.” 

 

“Oh, look, we’re back to normal. You’re swearing at me, you’re fine. Ronnie, she’s fine.” He teased and, this time, before she could shove him again, he just wrapped his arms around her, as tightly as he could. “I love you. And how could you ever think that I wanted to break up when what I want the most is to spend a lifetime with you? I'm sorry if you thought I was keeping things from you again or lying to you. I promise you that’s never happening. I’ll never hurt you. I’ll always take care of you, and that’s a promise.”

 

One that he obviously didn’t keep.


	4. Broken Strings

_ Part 4 _

 

_ Broken Strings _

  
  


If someone had told her the moment they met that all of this would be going down by the time they were forty, she would’ve laughed in their face, told them what a big joke that was; that they knew nothing or them or him, that they knew nothing about life or what being in love meant. But… _ love _ , could one really call what they have now that?

 

In days like these, she wishes someone had said to her, at age fifteen, what she now knows at age thirty-nine. Maybe they did. Maybe she was the one who didn’t listen. Maybe she didn’t  _ want _ to. Maybe pretending to be blind and dumb… maybe not knowing was better.

 

She can’t help now the sigh that passes her lips as the driver stands outside the car, hands behind his back; he must be tired by now of the many times she’s already rolled down her window to say she’d be right out. But she just can’t bring herself to do it, can’t bring herself to physically move. A knock on the window startles her and she rolls it down for what feels like the millionth time. It’s the driver, again, to say that time will be up soon. And she nods, rolling up her window once more. 

 

Finally, the door opens and she steps out slowly, one leg and then the other. The building before them is _grey_ , _cold_ _and almost lifeless_. Or maybe, that’s just how _she_ feels. The careful steps she takes show just _how much_ she wants to be there. Oh, if only that was true. The driver escorts her to the entrance and she knows that this is it; there’s no coming back now.

 

There’s a loud siren and the gates open. Someone comes and escorts her inside. The halls are empty and the only sound seems to be the one her heels make, bouncing off the walls. They reach a room with little booths. A few people are already there as she makes her way to one of the tiny stools that are positioned in each booth. She knows the procedure, this isn’t her first rodeo; she’s been here many times already.

 

A harsh bite to the side of her tongue, which she’s sure it would’ve been enough to bite off a piece, happens in order for her to keep quiet. She knows if she talks, things that she doesn’t want to say and he most certainly doesn’t want to hear _ will _ come out and there’s absolutely  _ no coming back _ if that happens.

 

The door on the other side of the glass opens and at the sight of him, she picks up the phone attached to the wall on her left. He does it it too with the one on his side. And,  _ of all the things  _ she wants to say to him,  _ only one  _ comes out as she fiddles, rather nervously, with the phone cord.

 

“ _ When _ are you coming home?”

 

When all she wanted to say, on that fateful, dreadful day, that also happened to be their anniversary was:

 

“I  _ thought  _ that you’d take care of me. However…  _ did you _ ?”


End file.
